


All Hallows Eve

by freudensteins_monster



Category: Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Asgard, Damsels in Distress, Drama, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy Tale Style, Falling In Love, Family Fluff, Fluff, Good Loki, Halloween, Interspecies Romance, Jötunn Loki, Laufey's A+ Parenting, Loki Feels, Married Life, Mates, Miðgarðr | Midgard, Monsters, Niðavellir | Nidavellir, No Smut, Politics, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Sexual References, The Nine Realms, Vanaheimr | Vanaheim, Álfheimr | Alfheim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-25 17:15:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 19,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4969510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freudensteins_monster/pseuds/freudensteins_monster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A village girl is late returning home on the most ghoulish night of the year and is chased through a dark forest only to be saved by something - someone - just as strange and monstrous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [7cinnamonroses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/7cinnamonroses/gifts).



Sigyn cursed under her breath as she watched the sun sink beneath the horizon. She pulled her cloak tightly around her to ward off her fears more than the cold, her eyes glued to the well-worn path laid out before her as she walked further into the forest.

Travelling through the woods at night was perilous enough for young woman on her own, but on All Hallows Eve even the cruellest of bandits stayed away from the forest. As the moon rose into the sky it would bring with it all manner of goblins and ghouls from beyond the veil, for tonight the barrier between this world and the next would be at its thinnest. So why, on this of all days, had Sigyn dallied so? She had risen with the sun and walked to the next village, to share a meal with her elder sister and her growing family, and she had departed early enough to make it home before sunset. But there had been market stalls, and herbs she needed to purchase, and a potion for her neighbour who had taken ill, and then the bookseller… oh, the bookseller’s cart always made her lose track of time.

She clutched her purchases, wrapped in paper and string, to her chest and walked faster, cursing her foolishness again as the light of the moon began to filter in through the trees. There wasn’t anything to be truly scared of, she tried to tell herself. It was all just stories told to children to get them to behave. That’s right, just stories. There was nothing supernatural about crops being ravaged and people going missing – these things happened at other times of the year and nobody went around crying ‘monster’ then. There was nothing to be scared of. Nothing in the woods. Nothing following her. Nothing that sounded like ghostly laughter on the wind. Definitely not.

Sigyn bit back a whimper and walked as fast as she could without breaking into a run, knowing if she did creatures, such as the ones that were most definitely not following her, would follow their instincts and chase her. She allowed herself a glimmer of hope as she caught sight of torches in the distance, signalling the boundary between the forest and her village. A low growl behind her sniffed it out and at the sound of a twig snapping underfoot what little remained of Sigyn rational resolve broke, sending her racing towards the torchlight. The sounds of jaws snapping caused her to cry out as she abandoned the well-worn path for a more direct route to her small house on the outskirts of the village, but in the dark, through her tears, she couldn’t see where she was going and quickly stumbled, weeping with fear as she tried to find a rock or a sturdy branch to defend herself. She scrambled to her feet and turned around, oh how she wished she hadn’t turned around, wielding a stick as though it were a sword, but such a measly weapon only made the creatures, creatures of fangs and claws and blood matted fur, snicker. Sigyn, trembling with fear, backed away from them, holding her breath as she waited for death, because how else was this night to end for her? She waited for them to pounce but instead they hesitated, growling as they shifted into defensive positions. Sigyn’s confusion only lasted a few seconds more, for then she backed into something cold and hard. She dropped her weapon, her hands moving to cover her mouth lest she scream and plead for her life. She turned around slowly, coming face to face with… a man. Sort of. He was tall, a head taller than the tallest man in her village, and his skin was blue, and cold to the touch, but he was definitely a man, or at least man-shaped, his well-toned body bare except for a dark cloak fastened around his neck and a leather and fur skirt that sat low on his hips.

If Sigyn wasn’t so terrified she would have blushed at the inappropriateness of being so close to a barely dressed man. But as it was, she _was_ terrified, and confused when she saw that his eyes – blood red eyes – were fixed on the monsters that had been stalking her, pinning them to the spot, daring them to make a move. Sigyn flinched when she felt his ice cold grip on her arm, pulling her behind him, but she didn’t fight him, glad to have something more intimidating than a stick between her and the more monstrous creatures of the forest. The creatures growled, baring their gleaming teeth. The blue giant growled back, a thick layer of ice growing on the ground in front of him, racing towards Sigyn’s attackers with a wave of his arm. The monsters retreated a few meters before eventually conceding defeat, returning to the depths of the forest for easier prey.

Her strange saviour turned to face her and Sigyn let go of the breath she had been holding, her head spinning.

“You saved me…” _Saved me for what? Saved me for himself? What does he want from me? Is he going to kill me? Eat me? Ravage me?_

Her head continued to spin, and then so did everything around her, and the last thing she saw before the world faded to black was a pair of crimson eyes looking down at her with what she could almost believe was concern.


	2. Chapter 2

Sigyn awoke in the grey light of morning, a black cloak of thick fur wrapped around her. It took her a moment to get her bearings, but when she pushed her panic down she realised she had been nestled in the corner of a neighbour’s garden, seated against the picket fence directly beneath a dying torch. She got to her feet unsteadily, using the fence for support, only then noticing a book on the ground beside her. It was the very book she had bought at the markets the day before, the very purchase which had caused her to be so late returning home.

 _Wait…_ The forest, the monsters, her blue saviour… it had all happened, hadn’t it? She turned the book over in her hands, noting the faint traces of frost on its pages. She considered throwing it away but after a moment’s hesitation clutched it to her chest and raced home before the rest of the village began to rouse from sleep. She wrapped the book in the cloak and buried them beneath several blankets in a trunk at the foot of her bed. She then frantically undressed, pulled on her nightgown, and threw herself into bed, stubbornly refusing to leave the safety of her home for the better part of a fortnight.

** *** **

Months passed and Sigyn could, on most days, convince herself that that night had just been a terrible nightmare, but as October approached again she found herself thinking back to that night with alarming frequency. One night, when her thoughts would not let her rest, she retrieved the book from the chest and made herself comfortable in an armchair in front of the hearth, the strangers cloak pulled over her lap like a blanket. Frost still seemed to mark its pages, though it was no longer cold to the touch. Sigyn examined the markings for several minutes before turning her attention to the books contents, losing herself in the adventures of an explorer and the descriptions of the faraway lands he visited.

Sigyn wondered, as she got ready for bed, the cloak thrown over her blankets, the book placed reverently on her small bookshelf, what faraway land her blue giant hailed from, and if he would return.

*** ** ***

All Hallows Eve arrived in a flurry of golden leaves, and whilst most villagers were working towards protecting themselves from demons and ghouls, Sigyn was busy making other preparations. As the sun set she placed a jack-o-lantern by her stoop and, propped up against the front step for all, or someone in particular, to see, was the frost covered journal. She went back inside and pottered about nervously, eventually convincing herself to stop pacing and sit down to wait. Wait for what, she wasn’t entirely sure. She couldn’t be certain he would return, or, if he did, that he would venture into the village to find her. _But_ _really, why would he?_

As the hours ticked by Sigyn berated her foolishness, but still would not retire. She had almost drifted off to sleep in the armchair when she heard a faint _tap-tap-tap_ _on the front door_. She leapt to her feet and raced to answer it, hesitating but briefly before pulling it open. Sigyn stared, mouth agape, at the blue stranger. Her memory had exaggerated his height, but he was still almost tall enough to fill the doorway. He was dressed in much the same way as the last time she saw him – bare to the waist - though he had not bothered to replace the cape he had left with her. He had hair the colour of midnight that fell below his shoulders and contrasted strangely with his blue skin, upon which, Sigyn noticed for the first time, were strange tribal markings. She cleared her throat, attempting to subvert the impulse to reach out and touch them. She glanced back at his face and found his red eyes staring back at her curiously as he turned the book over in his large hands. It wasn’t until he moved to return it to her that Sigyn remembered her manners.

“Please, won’t you come in?” she asked, stepping back out of the way.

“You would invite me in?” he asked, regarding her, and her home, with suspicion.

Sigyn gasped. She had never imagined that he could speak, and certainly not so well. His voice was rich and dark and gravelly, and Sigyn wished to hear it again.

“Yes, of course. I wanted to thank you for saving me. I have prepared a meal, if you’re hungry.”

Sigyn smiled as the giant stepped over the threshold, closing the door behind him.

“Please have a seat,” she said, gesturing to her small dining table, trying not to smile at the thought of him bending his long legs under it. She went to the hearth and retrieved a covered pan from where it had been keeping warm over glowing embers. She set it down in front of her guest, removing the lid to reveal a small roasted squab and an assortment of vegetables. “It’s not much, but I hope you like it.”

“You are not eating?”

“Oh, no, I ate earlier,” she lied. “But I also have a pot of soup I was going to heat through and have a small bowl of it for my supper. You’re welcome to that as well.”

“Only if you can spare it.”

Sigyn smiled warmly and went back to the hearth, pushing the pot of pumpkin soup back over the embers, feeding them a few small pieces of firewood. She waited by the fireplace, too nervous for the moment to engage her guest in conversation. She watched the soup intently, stirring it from time to time, until a loud _crunch_ interrupted her reverie. She glanced at her guest and found him chewing on a leg bone, crushing it between his teeth.

“I’m sorry,” she blushed, averting her gaze when he caught her staring. “It’s just… We don’t eat the bones.”

“You think me an animal,” he growled, his words laced with shame.

“No,” Sigyn replied slowly, trying to offer him a comforting smile. “Just different. Please, continue. I don’t mind, truly.”

In spite of her words he was still hesitant to continue, choosing instead to pick at the vegetables with his fingers. Sigyn dished up two bowls of soup and set one down before her guest, and another at the place setting opposite him. She cut into a new loaf of bread and offered the first slice to her guest. He took it hesitantly, sniffing at it, and when Sigyn finally sat down, ripping off a small piece and dunking it in the thick orange soup, he followed suit, groaning with pleasure as he savoured the taste.

“Have you not had soup before?” Sigyn ventured.

“Not like this,” he replied, pushing the pan of roast meat away to replace it with the bowl of soup, attacking it with a chunk of bread. “My realm is one of ice and snow; vegetation is difficult to come by. We have broths, though. Thin, watery soups of stewed meat and hardy tubers. In comparison, this concoction is a delicacy.”

“It’s just pumpkin soup,” Sigyn blushed. “Pumpkins are those round, orange vegetables you would have seen on our doorsteps.”

“You carve gruesome faces into your vegetables?”

“Only at All Hallows Eve. It is thought that they keep the wicked spirits at bay.”

“The less intelligent ones, I’m sure,” he said with a roll of his eyes, causing Sigyn to laugh. “And this?” he asked, picking up the loaf of bread. “This is bread, yes? We do not grow wheat, and it has been years since we traded with another realm for it, though I can still recall the smell of bread baking.”

“Do you have butter where you're from?”

The giant shook his head. _Giant?_ Sigyn scolded her appalling lack of manners.

“Do you… What is your name? I cannot keep thinking of you as ‘giant’.”

“I am Loki, of Jotunheim.”

“My name is Sigyn.”

“Well met, Sigyn.”

Sigyn giggled softly at the utter strangeness of her evening as she cut two more thick slices of bread, taking them over to the hearth and toasting them lighting over the small flames. She brought them back to the table and then retrieved a small pat of butter from her ice box. It was a precious commodity to her, but if having a giant from a magical land at her table didn’t qualify as a special occasion, she didn’t know what would. She spread a thick layer of it on the toast, waiting for it to melt slightly before handing it to Loki.

“Try this.”

Sigyn repressed a squeal of delight as Loki moaned, his eyes almost rolling back in his head, as he bit into the buttered toast.

“Now,” she said, preparing her own piece of toast. “Dip it in the soup.”

Sigyn laughed when he reacted the same way, taking such enthusiastic pleasure in such a simple delight.

Their meal continued in much the same manner, Loki delighting in the strange delicacies before him and Sigyn grinning ear to ear from his compliments. They made small talk, discussing their homes and the routines of their daily lives, smiling at the similarities, laughing at the strange differences. Sigyn was surprised at how easy it was to talk to Loki and quickly found herself thinking of him, not as a strange creature, but as a friend. The only awkwardness occurred when there was a short lull in the conversation. It was then that Sigyn could feel Loki’s eyes upon her, studying her, and she wondered if she looked as strange to him as he did to her.

When the fire burnt out, and the sky threatened to lighten, Loki rose from the table and bowed to his host.

“Thank you for your hospitality, Sigyn, but I must be leaving. The portal to my realm only remains open until dawn. If I do not leave now I shall be trapped here until it opens again next year.”

“Of course, I understand,” Sigyn said, though she didn’t really and had many questions on the matter that she had been too flustered to remember. She paused then, her hand on the door handle. “Would you… Will you be returning next year?” Sigyn stammered bashfully, ignoring Loki’s surprised expression. “You saved my life, and a single meal doesn’t seem like adequate thanks. I owe you a debt; if there is anything you need of me, anything that is in my power to give, I would gladly give it.”

Loki grinned hungrily then, chuckling as Sigyn blushed at his apparent suggestive interpretation of her innocent words. He stepped closer to her and took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her head back, his lips hovering over hers. Sigyn shivered as her flesh broke out in goosebumps, her hands pressed uneasily against his torso in a weak attempt to maintain a respectable distance between them.

“I would be careful what you promise me, little mortal,” he whispered. “You may not be willing to give me that which I desire, and my cold heart might not recover from your refusal.”

With that Loki disappeared into the early morning mist, leaving Sigyn to fall against the closed door, gasping for breath, her heart racing, her fingers ghosting over her lips.

That night, and every night that followed, regardless of her changing circumstances, Sigyn dreamt of the kiss that almost was.


	3. Chapter 3

All Hallows Eve approached again, so much faster than Sigyn would have liked. She prepared a meal for Loki, just as she had the year before, and spent the remainder of the evening pacing the length of her small home, practicing what she was going to say. His quiet knock startled her and she opened the door with a shaking hand.

“Good evening, Sigyn.”

Sigyn smiled despite herself.

“Good evening, Loki. You look well.”

Loki tried to take her hand but Sigyn pulled away, turning to the hearth to retrieve his meal.

“I was able to procure a chicken this year. And I made an apple pie for dessert, I think you’ll like that,” she added nervously.

“Sigyn, what’s wrong?”

Loki reached out to stroke her hair, trying to get her to look at him but she couldn’t bring herself to do so, cursing herself for leaning in to his touch.

“Loki, I…”

 _Dammit._ Sigyn had hoped to keep her nerves in check long enough for them to enjoy a meal together before telling him everything. She pulled away again, unable to bear being so close to him. It was only then that Loki’s focus shifted from Sigyn to the somewhat bare surroundings. He stepped around her, standing in the doorway of her bedroom, staring at small wooden crates stacked in the corner, packed full of Sigyn’s belongings.

“Loki, I won’t be here should you return next year, and I… I won’t be able to see you again.”

“Why not?” he asked quietly, a hint of pain in his voice.

“Winter was cruel this past year, and my garden barely grew enough to sustain me, leaving me little to trade with, and the money my father had left me has all but run out. I was going to move to the village where my sister lives and work at the school house there, but it burnt down over midsummer, and there was no other work for me, and… and so I had to entertain marriage proposals.” Sigyn took a deep breath, willing her tears not to fall. “I will be wed by midwinter. I will not be able to see you again,” she repeated, more for her own benefit.

“Is he a good man?” Loki asked, turning to face her.

“He is the blacksmith here, and very good at his trade. He can support me.”

“That is not what I asked, Sigyn. Is he a good man?” he repeated. “Do you love him?”

Sigyn laughed sadly, wiping away her tears, but didn’t get a chance to answer him before her front door was kicked in, and there stood Sigyn’s betrothed, Thackery, a pitchfork held in his shaking hands.

“Get away from her, monster!” he bellowed.

Loki snarled and tried to push Sigyn behind him, but she resisted, determined to protect him.

“Thackery, please! Don’t!” she cried, planting herself firmly between them.

“Sigyn! Step away! I will slay the beast!”

“No, Thackery! Please! He has done me no harm!”

Thackery balked at her admission, shaking his head in disgust.

“Marcel said he saw you open your door for the monster, I did not want to believe him. I knew you to be a strange woman, but to willing cavort with demons?” Thackery shook with anger and revulsion.

“He is my friend,” Sigyn replied stubbornly.

“He is a monster, Sigyn,” Thackery spat. “He doesn’t belong in the civilised world, and he sure as hell doesn’t belong in your home. Come with me, creature” he sneered. “I’ll take you back to the forest, back to the darkness from whence you came.”

Sigyn shook her head and refused to budge.

“No.”

“Sigyn, you have my word – I won’t harm him.”

“I don’t believe you!”

And just like that Sigyn felt her heart drop; she didn’t trust the man she was to marry, and she knew never would. But Loki… a stranger, a supposed monster… She trusted him with her life. She spun around and pressed the palms of her hands against Loki’s chest, attempting to push him back as he growled menacingly at the Thackery.

“Loki,” she begged, trying to pull his focus. “I owe you a debt.” Loki faltered at her words, his crimson gaze fixed on her tearful face. “And I shall gladly give you anything that you need.”

“You swear it?”

“I swear it.”

Loki smiled, taking Sigyn’s face in his hands and placing a soft kiss upon her lips.

“I need you, Sigyn.”

It was a perfect moment, ruined by the screams of Thackery as he rushed forward, pitchfork lowered like a jousting lance. With lightning fast reflexes Loki pulled Sigyn out of harm’s way with one hand and turned Thackery to ice with a wave of the other.

“You didn’t have to kill him,” Sigyn cried, though not truly upset by the notion.

“He lives,” Loki scowled, glaring at the flickering eyes of Thackery’s otherwise frozen form. “Though it will be some time before the ice melts.” He paused, looking out the open door, listening for movement. “Someone would have heard him. We must leave now, if you still wish to...” he added nervously.

Sigyn assuaged Loki’s fears by rushing about her room, sifting through a large trunk of her belongings. She found the thickest woollen dress she possessed and pulled it over her head, then put on a heavy coat and gloves, wrapping Loki’s black cloak around her shoulders.

“I must be mad,” she muttered to herself once she finally stopped to think.

Loki smiled and kissed her again, his hands sliding down her arms until his fingers where entwined with hers. “And yet I desire you still.”

Sigyn laughed and kissed him back, growing more confident in her choice with each passing second. “Take me away from here, Loki.”

 ** *** **

The blacksmiths screams did indeed drawn the attention of Sigyn’s neighbours, those few who valued gossip over their own safety, and they watched in horror as a terrifying blue ogre dragged poor Sigyn into the forest, never to be seen again.

Thackery, once thawed, did not dispute the villagers version of events, adding to it tales of his own bravery, of how he tried in vain to save his betrothed from the hideous blue demon. What he didn’t tell the townspeople, what he never admitted to anyone, was that no matter how hot the fire in his forge burned, he never felt warm again.


	4. Chapter 4

“Welcome to Jotunheim.”

Loki led Sigyn out of a cave atop a small ridge, her hand still clasped in his. Sigyn gasped as a flurry of snowflakes cleared from her vision to reveal the sparkling ice plains of Jotunheim.

“Oh my…” She glanced up at the small white sun, a gloved hand shielding her eyes. “How is it day? It couldn’t have been much passed nightfall when we left.”

“Our worlds are not completely synchronised. I can calculate what day the portal should be open from this side reasonably well, but the time of day has yet eluded me.”

“Hence why one year you seemed to arrive at dusk, and then after midnight the next.”

“Precisely.”

A gruff panting caught Loki’s attention and he smiled, leading the dazed Sigyn a little ways down the rocky outcropping.

“You waited for me,” he cried cheerfully. “Good boy!”

Sigyn froze. Loki let go over her hand to step away and greet a monstrous beast, something that appeared to be part bullock and part sea lion. That was not remotely accurate, really, but Sigyn’s imagination could do no better. Loki held out his hand, beckoning her closer, and Sigyn willed herself to move. She reached out patted its snout, mindful of the large tusks that curled out of its mouth, breathing a sigh of relief when the creature didn’t gobble her up. Loki regarded her with quiet amazement, this strange woman who placed her trust in him.

“His name is Niruk, he is my steed. Shall we?”

Loki gave the beast a command a strange tongue and Niruk got down on his belly, panting happily. Loki swung himself up onto a saddle of leather and bone and seated Sigyn in front of him. Sigyn tried not to blush as she adjusted her skirts, unaccustomed to being astride a mount - unaccustomed to riding period. Loki gave Niruk another command and he lumbered to his feet. Sigyn lurched forward and Loki’s arm instinctively curled about her waist, pressing her back against his chest.

“I won’t let you fall,” Loki whispered, his breath warm against the back of her neck. She turned to face him and he pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth and smiled. He extended his arm, drawing Sigyn’s gaze to the horizon. “You see that glint off in the distance? That is the Azoht Sea, it marks the edge of our realm. There are fishing villages dotted all along the coastline. And there,” he said, pointing to jagged mountain ranges to the left of them. “The Vlolf Mountains, the site of our famed diamond mines. And there,” he pointed directly ahead of them, right in the centre of icy plains. “Lies the royal city of Utgard.”

Sigyn squinted, regarding the small arrangement of buildings carved of ice and rock curiously. It looked to be no more than an outpost - a village hall and several smaller huts, and she said as much.

“Indeed,” Loki smirked. “For that is what they are. That is where the sentries are posted, and where the king entertained visiting dignitaries, so many years ago. The true city lies beneath it, a well-designed, and rather beautiful warren of tunnels, home to the royal family and thousands of Jotun citizens.”

“It sounds wondrous.”

“Would you like to see it?”

Sigyn smiled and nodded, and Loki kicked his heels into Niruk’s flanks and the beast wandered down the ridge, sliding, unfazed, here and there, but once he was on flat ground he sped off, setting a blistering pace. If it weren’t for Loki’s arm around her middle, strong and reassuring, Sigyn was certain she would have ended up face down in the snow a mile back.

When they reached the topside settlement, Loki handed Niruk’s reins to the nearest Jotun and Sigyn had to fight the urge to stare. She had thought of Loki as a giant, standing head and shoulders above her, but that had been rather foolish. It became obvious to her, as they made their way to the central building, that Loki was rather short compared to the Jotuns they passed, only coming up to their chests. Their very stature made them appear intimidating, but they all regarded Loki with a mild deference, and Sigyn they simply glanced at curiously before promptly ignoring her. Nevertheless, Sigyn found herself standing closer to Loki, her hand seeking his as they walked down a huge, curving tunnel, high enough for true giants. The tunnel opened up into a cavernous hall, its roof glittering with shards of ice – _or where they diamonds?_ Loki brought Sigyn to the centre of the room to stand before a great throne carved of obsidian and ice.

“The throne of the Jotun king,” he confirmed.

“It’s amazing, Loki. Truly.”

“Brother!” a voice echoed through the hall, causing them to spin on their heels. A jotun male, a few feet taller than Loki, dressed in black breeches and a coat, strode towards them. “I wasn’t expecting you back so soon. Ah,” he exclaimed upon sighting the tiny Sigyn behind him. “Caught your dinner whilst you were out, I see.”

“Býleistr,” Loki sighed irritably. “This is Sigyn.”

“The mortal you’ve been mooning over, I take it?”

Loki blushed in shades of midnight and Sigyn repressed a smile.

“Sigyn,” Loki said stiffly. “This is my brother, Býleistr.”

“Well met,” Sigyn curtseyed.

“And you,” he replied before turning back to his brother. “Father’s been looking for you.”

“And I suppose you didn’t bother to tell him you knew where I was?”

“Must have slipped my mind,” he smirked, adjusting his blue-grey leather coat. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take Grija for a run, and perhaps get myself a snack too,” he added, biting the air as he passed Sigyn.

“He doesn’t mean any harm, Sigyn. He just thinks himself amusing,” Loki assured her, squeezing her hand as he led her along the tunnels Býleistr had appeared from.

“I will show you where you will be staying and then I shall seek out my father. I wish to speak with him first, before introducing you,” he advised as they rounded a corner, almost running into the largest Jotun Sigyn had yet seen, so grand his form almost filled the tunnel.

“Did you now?” the giant rumbled.

“Father!” Loki exclaimed, recovering quickly, bowing his head respectfully.

“And what is you wish to speak to me about, my son?” he drawled, his dark red eyes darting to Sigyn.

“Father, may I introduce Sigyn of Midgard.”

“And what is she doing so far from home?”

Loki shuffled awkwardly as Laufey spied their joint hands.

“I asked her to return with me.”

“Truly?” he asked, an eyebrow slowly reaching skyward. Laufey stifled a laugh and shook his head. “Thank the ancestors you were not my firstborn, Loki, for if the crown prince prided himself on his peculiarities as you do the court would never let me hear the end of it.”

 _Crown prince?_ … _Býleistr? So that means…_

Sigyn gasped and fell to her knees before Laufey, King of Jotunheim.

“Please forgive my ignorance, your majesty. I meant no disrespect.”

The giant’s laughter echoed down the tunnel like an avalanche.

“Rise, girl,” he chuckled. “The Midgardian knows how to show respect to her betters, perhaps you can learn something from her,” he smirked, then nodded, giving his blessing. “Very well, Loki, but she is your responsibility. You must see to her needs and keep her out of trouble.”

“I am not a pet,” Sigyn snapped before she could stop herself, mumbling a timid “your majesty” as an afterthought, shuffling behind Loki.

“Indeed not,” the Jotun king laughed. “Welcome to Utgard, Sigyn of Midgard. Love my son well… and try not to get stepped on.”

 

“Is there something you wish to tell me?” Sigyn prodded, after Laufey was gone from their sight.

“No, I don’t think so,” Loki teased as they continued along the tunnel, their nervous laughter occupying them until Loki stopped before a large frost covered iron door. He pushed it open with ease and showed Sigyn inside. It was a large chamber, its walls hewn from grey rock, but its high ceiling was composed entirely of waves of translucent blue ice, filling the room with muted sunlight. A large bed covered in furs sat on the wall opposite the door, the wall to the left lined with books and maps and trinkets, the wall to the right housed a large fireplace, before which sat a plush divan, and the doorway to a wash room. It was beautiful, to be sure, but it seemed far too lived-in to Sigyn to be a guest room.

“Is this is your bedchamber?” Sigyn asked shyly. Loki nodded. “I cannot stay here.”

“Why ever not?”

“We are not married - it is not proper.”

Loki glanced at her curiously. “Jotuns do not have marriages, or hand fastenings; we take lifemates.”

“And what does that mean?” Sigyn stammered, avoiding eye contact, though she could feel Loki’s eyes roaming over her.

“I wish to have you as my mate, Sigyn, by my side always. To make it official is a simple matter: I shall bed you and mark you as mine, after which there will be none who can ever dispute my claim, no force that could ever tear us apart.”

Sigyn felt her face grow hot even within in the frigid walls of the bedchambers. She glanced apprehensively between Loki and his fur covered bed, not noticing the way he smiled at her flustered state. He took her hands in his, pressing his cold lips upon her curled fingers.

“Sigyn,” he hummed. “I have waited out the turning of the universe just for the chance to see your smile again. I am nothing if not patient,” he added, his voice barely a whisper. “You may sleep here, alone, tonight, and I shall make other arrangements for you in the morning. And I promise not to take you as my mate until such time as you wish to have me as yours as well.”

Sigyn blushed furiously, faltering as Loki made to leave.

“Wait.”

Loki’s eyebrow quirked, betraying his desire to have Sigyn proclaim her interest. Sigyn blushed again, a seemingly perpetual reaction to Loki’s presence, as laughter bubbled in her chest.

“We still have much to discuss, _your majesty_.”

Loki smirked. “Would you not rather rest? It has been a long evening-turned-day.”

“I honestly don’t think I could,” Sigyn giggled.

“Well, I suppose we never did get to enjoy the dinner you prepared,” he smiled, inching closer to her.

“No, we did not.”

“Shall I call for some refreshments, then?”

 

They ate sparingly, seated together on the rather elegant looking divan, a respectable distance apart, which got less respectable as daylight faded and Loki built a fire in the hearth. The pauses between questions were filled with gentle caresses and less gentle kisses, and Sigyn found herself, in the blue glow of morning, lying fully clothed on the divan, wrapped in Loki’s arms.

Though Sigyn was still torn between the traditions of Midgardian courtship and her desire to ignore such conventions entirely whenever Loki smiled at her, she agreed not to bother with a second bedroom, trusting Loki to keep his word. She spent hers days becoming acquainted with her new home, and her nights getting to know Loki better, exploring the depth of her affections for him, and before the largest of Jotunheim’s moons completed a full cycle, Sigyn asked Loki to take her to his bed. Loki, ever patient, spent hours pleasuring Sigyn’s wonderfully responsive form before finally claiming her maidenhead, his sharp teeth biting into the flesh of her shoulder, marking her as his until their dying days.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are no happy endings because nothing ends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, last chapter would have been a decent place to stop it, but I have more in my head for these two. This chapter seems a little light on the fairy tale vibe, and it kind of waxes and wanes for the rest of the story, but hopefully it reads well and you don't mind too much.  
> Thanks for reading. xoxox

Time passed in the frozen realm, an oppressive winter turned into a cool spring, and the king had requested his family and the heads of all the oldest families in Jotunheim, many of whom served on his council, to attend a formal dinner. Well, as formal as dinner got in Jotunheim anyway. Laufey-king was seated at the head of the table, his sons on either side of him, and their mates next to them. Býleistr had taken his mate, Maezor, a few months prior, and though they had shared few words, Sigyn approved of her brother-in-law’s choice. Býleistr could be, at times, as cruel as he was playful, and if age and wisdom would not curb such behaviour, his mate, with her firm hand and sharp tongue, would. Sigyn smiled at the thought as she picked at her food.

“Friends,” Laufey shouted as he rose from his seat. “I have asked you here tonight to celebrate some wondrous news.” Laufey glanced at Maezor, beaming with pride, and Sigyn felt the colour drain from her face. “Come next spring, Jotunheim will have a new heir.” Laufey-king raised his glass and the rest of the table followed suit. “Here’s to another son to the great line of Ymir. May he grow tall and strong and wise, and serve Jotunheim well, as all kings before him have.”

The table erupted into cheers and joyous cries as they celebrated the news, none but Loki noticing that Sigyn couldn’t bring herself to speak, let alone cheer. As she brought her drink to her lips Loki’s hand covered the hand she left upon the table, cold and shaking. She drained her cup and tried to give Loki a reassuring smile, but her attempt to find peace was rudely interrupted by a small bone hitting her knuckles, and then another one, as Býleistr attempted to get one into her cup. Sigyn tutted and wiped her hand on her skirt.

“Come now, little sister,” Býleistr laughed. “You have yet to congratulate me on the news of my son. Perhaps you can play nursemaid to him, at least until he outgrows you.”

“Congratulations, brother. I pray to the ancestors that he has better manners than his father,” Sigyn replied, throwing a bone back at him, only for Maezor to catch it and drop it distastefully onto her mate’s plate.

“You know,” Maezor growled. “Such an act could be misconstrued at treasonous.”

“And yet when Býleistr throws scraps at me as though I am the family pet it is simply… the crown prince’s prerogative?”

Býleistr victorious smirk disappeared as Maezor turned to glare at him.

“It is a sign he has much maturing to do. And he’d best get to it, for I will not be raising two infants.”

“Well said, sister. And let it be known that I whilst I will only be too happy to help you with the smallest of your children, the big one is entirely yours to deal with.”

The two women shared a smile as all within earshot laughed good-naturedly at Býleistr expense.

“Our mates are joining forces against us, brother,” he moaned, pouring himself another drink.

“Against you, brother,” Loki clarified. “Best of luck to you.”

Sigyn laughed with everyone else and tried to hold on to the feeling but the sadness crept back, and as soon as it was appropriate for her to do so, she excused herself from the table and went to bed.

Sigyn thought it unfair that Maezor could be with child after only two months, whilst she remained barren, and immediately hated herself for doing so. It was not Maezor’s fault. It was no one’s fault.

When Sigyn first failed to get her moon’s blood she had excitedly visited with Verth, the royal healer, only to be told the lack of blood was simply her body’s reaction to the extreme changes in her environment and diet. Verth had also told her, her large blue hand patting Sigyn’s tiny one kindly, that whilst interspecies breeding was not unheard of throughout the nine, it was rare, and often childless. Sigyn had been bedridden for a week after the news that she may never bear Loki’s children, whilst Loki did everything he could to remain strong for his mate and not join her in mourning.

 

The morning after the painful announcement, Loki roused from sleep and gently woke Sigyn. The king required his services for the better part of the day and, as much as he wanted to let Sigyn sleep after he held her all night as she quietly wept, he could not leave their bed without telling her how much he loved her. She smiled and promised him that all was well. Regardless, he swore to return as quickly as he was able, but it wasn’t until the midday meal had long since passed that Loki was finally free to return to her side. He was surprised but gladdened to find that she was no longer in their bedchambers, and spent the next half hour searching for her, eventually seeking her out above ground. He found her at the stables playing with Niruk, practising the language of her adopted realm on a non-judgemental audience, laughing when he happily obeyed her commands. She had dressed in fur lined boots and a thick blue-black coat, the hood of which fell up and down depending on which way the wind was blowing, but she paid it no mind.

“I thought I would find you here,” he smiled, patting Niruk. Sigyn smiled back but felt no need to fill the void with words. “I am sorry, Sigyn,” Loki said so quietly it was almost lost on the wind. “I did not think, when I took you… I’m afraid I wasn’t thinking very far ahead. Or rationally. I just wanted you.”

“Needed.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You said you needed me,” Sigyn repeatedly, offering him a small smile.

“Aye, I needed you, like air. Still do.”

“Good,” she said, stepping away from Niruk to take Loki’s hand. “Because I still need you.” Loki wrapped her in his arms, his forehead resting against hers, content in the moment until Sigyn swatted his chest. “But do not speak as though you are a monster who stole me from my home, Loki. I came quite willingly, if I recall. And would do so again, even knowing what I know now.”

“Truly?”

Sigyn nodded. “Accepting it is just… difficult. As much as I wanted to be able to give you children, I also wanted a purpose. I thought being a mother would have given me that. Before I came here I… I cooked, I cleaned, I sewed, and I tended to my garden and traded produce at the markets. Here I can do none of those things – I cannot even read the books in the library,” she exclaimed in exasperation. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, pressing her face against his chest. “I fear the life of an idle princess suits me ill.”

“I would be worried if it didn’t,” Loki chuckled as he kissed the top of her head. “I fear I must apologise again; I have neglected your happiness.”

“You are my happiness.”

“But you could have more, you should have more,” he said quietly as his mind wandered. “I understand how difficult it is to find your place in this world, to feel so small and out of place… I should have been more attentive. I am sorry, beloved. And I shall make amends, everyday hence, starting right now; I shall dedicate more time to teaching you my language, so at the very least you can find solace in books,” he added, leading her back towards the entrance to the city.

“I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble with your father for shirking your princely duties,” Sigyn teased.

“All the best things in my life have happened when I was off shirking my duties,” Loki smirked. “I met you, for starters.”

 

The lessons didn’t start that afternoon, though they kept themselves busy, arriving late for dinner, their hair and clothes dishevelled. Much of the dinner conversation, the small amount of that was in the common tongue, was dedicated to continued celebration of Maezor’s pregnancy. It was trying for Sigyn but Loki’s hand on her shoulder, his fingers moving in circles over the faded teeth marks there, kept her mind from wandering to darker places. Tired of translating the bulk of the conversation around her Sigyn focused on her meal, yet another bowl of broth with a leg of roast meat on the side.

 _What I wouldn’t give for a slice of bread,_ she grumbled to herself as she did most meals, but this time the thought stuck with her, an idea started to form, and after she and Loki had returned to their chambers she tentatively broached the subject with him.

“Do you recall telling me once that it had been years since you had traded with another realm for wheat?”

“Of course, why do you ask?” Loki replied as he lay beside her.

“Why do you not trade with them any longer?”

“Well,” Loki sighed. “Wars tend to put a dampener on trade negotiations.

“When was the last time someone tried?”

“I honestly cannot recall. Why the sudden interest, beloved?”

“It’s just, I feel that Jotunheim is lacking in much – but it is not without its resources: precious stones, leathers and fur… Surely there are realms which would be willing to trade with you for such things?”

“Jotunheim survives quite well without the charity of other realms,” Loki responded stubbornly.

“It is not charity, Loki, it’s trading – a completely commonplace practice across the Nine. And, yes, you are surviving, but what about thriving? You cannot deny that Jotunheim could be more, and you cannot say you don’t yearn for more. I can still recall your expressions when you shared my food – and that was peasant fare, not something a prince of my realm would even bother with. Just imagine it, Loki! Vegetables on the table, wine…”

“Bread?” Loki added with a knowing smirk.

“Fine, I miss bread!” Sigyn cried dramatically. Loki chuckled.

“I do see the truth in your words, Sigyn, but you must understand that we Jotuns are a feared race. We were savage and remorseless in battle, and our neighbours have long memories.”

“What about me?” Sigyn asked quietly, her simple complaint twisting into a plan. “I am not Jotun, and not remotely intimidating,” she added with a twinge of bitterness, repeating a phrase she had heard so many Jotun’s use to describe her. “I could act as something like an envoy for Jotunheim, negotiating trade agreements on behalf of the crown.”

Loki regarded her silently, long enough for Sigyn to start second-guessing herself.

“I know I don’t really have experience trading on such a grand scale, and I would need to learn more of your history with your neighbours, but…”

“Do you think this could be your purpose? A way to prove your usefulness to my people?”

“It couldn’t hurt to try,” she mumbled. “But it’s mostly about the bread.”

Loki laughed and held her close, covering them with a blanket of grey speckled pelts.

“You think it is a silly idea?” she asked quietly as she curled up against his side.

“I think it is a difficult one to realise. If trying to convince other realms to trade with us wasn’t an impossible enough feat, first you must convince my father to allow it.”

“Laufey likes me. I was his favourite daughter-in-law for a time.”

“You were his only daughter-in-law for a time,” Loki countered, smirking.

“Surely that is reason enough to grant me an audience and hear me out.”

“Perhaps,” Loki mused. “But you are right, you do not know enough about our history to properly manipulate our former trade partners.”

“Not ‘manipulate’,” Sigyn scolded. “Negotiate with.”

“Nuance,” Loki replied dismissively. “So, first thing tomorrow I shall take you to the Royal Archives so that you may learn all that you can.”

“But I cannot read any language but my own.”

“Then I shall split your lessons in twain – half our time will be spent learning the Jotun language, and as much as I know of others, and the other half shall consist of me teaching you our histories.”

“You’d do that for me? You don’t think it would be a waste of your time?”

“Knowledge is never a waste of time, Sigyn. Besides, I think you’re right; I think my father does like you,” he smirked.

 

A few weeks later, having finally been granted an official audience before the King of Jotunheim and his court, Sigyn wasn’t feeling so certain.

“Am I correct in understanding that you personally wish to reopen trade negotiations with the other realms?”

“Yes, your majesty.”

“It is a laughable request, Sigyn of Midgard. What makes you think I would grant such a thing?”

“Diamonds,” Sigyn stammered.

“What?” Laufey grumbled.

“Diamonds,” she repeated more firmly, her eyes fliting over to where Loki stood, encouraging her to remain calm and strong. “Jotunheim is renowned for having the finest gems of all the realms, their quality rivals that of any precious stones the dwarves have managed to dig up, and your mines have yet to slow production in all the years since the Great War.”

“What is your point, Sigyn?”

“Why? Why are your mines still active, why are your people still mining diamonds, when you have no use for them? They are trinkets to your people. I have seen children use them in their games, I have seen them affixed to lanterns purely for the beautiful patterns the light makes. I would never assume to know my kings mind, but if I were to hazard a guess, I would say that you keep your mines in service because you know diamonds are of value to the other realms, and you believe you will trade with them again one day, but you would prefer it if they came to you first. But I would say that there is no shame in trading goods you have in abundance for those you do not. And that there is always the possibility that you can come away with a better deal than the man across the table.”

Sigyn’s mouth snapped shut before she rambled any longer, her tightly clasped hands turning white as she tried to hold the king’s gaze, his fingers drumming on the arm of his throne as he contemplated her words. Laufey-king called over one of his council members and shared a few hushed words before dismissing him and turning to address Sigyn.

“I propose a test, little Sigyn. The tools in our mines are in need reforging or replacing, and for that we need metal and forges – and we have neither. I shall give to you ten diamonds and at first light I will send you to Nidavellir, where you will have three days to negotiate a trade with King Ivaldi for new tools. If you succeed I may very well be open to the idea of attempting trade with the other realms. If you fail, we shall forget this embarrassment ever occurred. Agreed?”

 

When word reached the dwarf king that his lands had been invaded by frost giants he’d scarcely believed it, but when the reports were verified – though “invaded” would not be a word he used to describe the appearance of two jotuns – he’d prepared his mount (a giant armour-clad hog) and led a troop of his best men down the mountainside to meet them. And as surprised as the old king was to see two jotuns standing idling on the main road, a large cart between them, it was nothing compared to the surprise of seeing a small woman in their company. She grinned madly at the feel of grass in her hands and glanced about her excitedly as though she had never seen the sky before. So entranced by her surroundings was she that the sound of a dozen dwarf soldiers marching down the road failed to get her attention. King Ivaldi, no longer concerned by the presence of frost giants, watched the strange woman curiously for a moment longer before clearing his throat.

“Young miss?”

“Oh!” she exclaimed, dusting her hands on the front of her dress, curtseying. “Do I have the pleasure of addressing King Ivaldi of Nidavellir, master of the greatest furnaces in the nine?”

“You do,” he replied, bewildered. “And who might you be?”

She smiled so warmly the king felt himself smiling in turn.

“My name is Sigyn of Jotunheim, and I have come to trade with you.”


	6. Chapter 6

It was longest three days of Loki’s life. Even the year he spent waiting for the portal to her realm to open felt like a heartbeat compared to this torture.

The king, in all his wisdom, had refused to allow the prince to travel with his mate to another realm without a peace treaty in place to assure his safety. And once Laufey had refused to argue the point with his son any further Loki spent what precious little time he had, time he should have spent helping Sigyn prepare, finding the two most loyal and well-trained soldiers in Laufey’s army to act as Sigyn’s bodyguards in his stead. Once he had gone over, in explicit detail, what would befall them if anything happened to Sigyn, he returned to her side and went over dwarvish customs, as well as their habit of terminating trade negotiations if they felt their craftsmanship wasn’t being appreciated. Loki went over it again and again until Sigyn begged him to stop and let her sleep. He conceded but didn’t sleep a wink himself.

Loki did his best to appear nothing but supportive of Sigyn and her mission, kissing her chastely in front of the gathered crowd before watching her disappear in the brilliant light of the portal his father had created with their prized relic, the Casket of Ancient Winters. Loki had not stopped pacing since.

On the morning of the third day he paced back and forwards across the courtyard, waiting for his father to arrive with the Casket at the prearranged time to bring Sigyn back. It wouldn’t be for hours, but Loki was too distracted to do anything else. So distracted he failed to notice his brother until he was being dragged back under the cover of the hall and shoved into a chair.

“Sit down,” Býleistr warned as Loki tried to get to his feet. “You’re making the rest of us dizzy.”

Loki growled and fell back against the chair, grinding his teeth. Býleistr shook his head at his brother’s pathetic display, waving over two servers who placed a plate of roasted meats and a flagon of ale on the table.

“When did you last eat?” Býleistr asked.

“I don’t remember. What does it matter?”

 **“** Eat.”Býleistr urged, pushing the plate towards his younger sibling, choosing to keep the ale for himself until Loki was more tolerable. “She will be fine, brother,” he added once Loki begrudgingly picked at the food in front of him. “She’s is quite clever, and strong… in her own way.”

 _All that means little against a dwarvish battle-axe._ Loki winced at the thought, his imagination putting far too much detail into it. “You would not be so calm if it was your mate wandering about in enemy territory.”

“My mate would never be in such a predicament – no matter her race,” he added before Loki said something Býleistr couldn’t easily forgive. “To be the mate of the crown prince chains one to a life of certain expectations and many restrictions, and I would not have chosen Maezor if she did not fully understand and accept them. You were not so considerate with Sigyn.”

“I know,” Loki sighed, pushing away the plate and reaching for the ale. “It would not have been such an issue if she were but a bit taller, then she could ride unassisted, she could earn her keep in the kitchens, but as it is…”

“She just gets underfoot?” Býleistr teased, ignoring the glare Loki gave him. “But I’m sure you don’t want actually want her to change – you love her just the way she is,” he smirked, causing Loki to snicker and blush, taking another swig from the bottle. “It’s quite nauseating, all those emotions you two have for each other,” he remarked, swiping the bottle out of Loki’s hand.

“Do you not have love for Maezor?”

“Of course, she is my mate, my match in all things. But what you and Sigyn have is something completely unnatural, I fear it may be a sickness of the mind,” he joked, trying to steal a drink whilst Loki was grabbing for the bottle.

Their friendly, increasingly drunken banter served to distract Loki well enough until Laufey finally appeared, Casket held reverently in his hands. He stood at the steps of the exterior hall facing the courtyard, his sons standing behind him, guards on all sides of the square, and called forth a snowstorm of light. Loki winced, blinking, before taking a few steps forward, holding his breath until he saw his mate step out of the portals light. Sigyn stepped out onto the snow-covered ground and sighing happily as the cool wind greeted her, and again when she spied her mate. Loki wanted to run to her, wanted to do so many things, but he held fast, letting Sigyn deal with his father without his interference.

“My king,” she curtseyed.

“Well met, little Sigyn. How did you fare?”

“Oh, it was wonderful,” Sigyn beamed. “Ivaldi was most welcoming.”

“Truly?” Laufey hummed, his disbelief evident. “I had thought Ivaldi as stubborn and quick to anger. I had not thought he would even see you.”

“I found him to be quite agreeable,” Sigyn smiled, handing a small carved box to her king. Laufey opened it and his disbelief turned to annoyance.

“You gave him five diamonds?” Laufey growled.

“Well, yes…” Sigyn replied, faltering slightly. “It seemed a fair price.”

“For a cart load of tools? You foolish girl,” Laufey hissed.

Before Sigyn could reply all eyes turned to the portal as one of Sigyn’s guards stepped through, pulling a cart filled with pickaxes and hammers and shovels. And then the second guard stepped forth, pulling a larger second cart of dwarvish design.

“Not just a cart of tools, your majesty,” Sigyn replied, doing her best not to gloat. “Two diamonds covered the cost of the tools – of which this is but the first delivery. Another diamond,” she said, moving to the second cart, stepping up on the one of the wheel spokes so she could better see its contents. “Was exchanged for ten barrels of beer, ten bags of flour, five sacks of potatoes, carrots, onions, parsnips, turnips, and – Look, Loki! – mushrooms!” she exclaimed before jumping down.

“And the other two diamonds?” Laufey asked slowly as words threatened to escape him.

“Those I left with Ivaldi as a prepayment – a risk, I agree, but I felt it was something of an act of trust, which he appreciated. Not half as much as he appreciated our fine diamonds,” she grinned. “King Ivaldi was practically drooling over them. He swore their quality was just as flawless as he remembered.”

Now Laufey was truly speechless. As were his sons, though Loki appeared more proud than bewildered.

“What… a prepayment for what, precisely?” Laufey queried, stringing his words together with difficulty.

“He was going to offer you iron ore, but as we have no appropriate way of processing it, an alternative was suggested. If I procure precise measurements and return within the week Ivaldi can start work on new rails and carts for your mines. And if we were to throw in some leather and fur for a new winter coat for his majesty, he may be convinced to forge some specialty pieces,” Sigyn added conspiratorially, unable to wipe the smile from her face.

Laufey’s mouth opened and shut as he tried to come to terms with what he was seeing, with what Sigyn was saying. He closed the portal and passed the Casket to the equally dumbfounded Býleistr, then took a few unsteady steps forwards.

“I can go back, can’t I?” Sigyn asked quietly, her confidence evaporating in the face of the unreadable king. She glanced at Loki, hoping to get a better understanding of her failure. “Did I not do well? P-perhaps I was too generous…” she stammered, her weak response soon lost over the sound of Laufey’s avalanche-inducing laughter.

“Did you do well? Ha!” he cried, closing the distance between them with a mere stride, kneeling down to her height, his giant hands gently squeezing her shoulders. “You did very well, Ambassador Sigyn,” he assured her with a wink. He stepped back and began ordering his men to unload the carts and discussing their distribution with Býleistr. Sigyn broke out into a wide grin, fit to bursting with happiness. She rushed over to Loki, jumping into his arms, giggling as he peppered her face with kisses. Before he got carried away he placed her feet upon the ground and addressed his father.

“If you’ll excuse us, father. The ambassador and I have much to discuss.”

Sigyn shot Loki an embarrassed look as Laufey snorted with laughter, dismissing them. Loki took Sigyn’s hand and tried to lead her back into the city but Sigyn pulled away, moving back Laufey’s line of sight.

“Thank you, your majesty, for the opportuniieee!! Loki!” she squealed as her mate threw her over his shoulder and carried her back to their chambers, the laughter of the royal family following them down the tunnels.

** *** ** 

Later that afternoon, after Loki and her own desires freed her from their bed, Sigyn made her way to the kitchen, one of many in the underground city, and the one that put food on the royal table, to oversee that night’s meal. The produce they had received was quite standard fare, but Sigyn had grown up with the same and had always found a way to make the most of it. So that night, alongside the usual plates of roasted meat falling off the bone (with a side gravy), placed upon the table were pots of hearty stews and loaves of hot bread (made with dwarvish beer), fresh from the ovens. Sigyn was overwhelming satisfied with the spread, a taste of home almost, but was happier still to find that the rest of the table was enjoying it as well.

In the middle of the meal Laufey got to his feet and raised a goblet, waiting for the gathered guests to grow quiet before he made his toast.

“Tonight we offer our thanks for this meal, and to the continuing prosperity of our realm, to Sigyn of Jotunheim, our first ambassador in an age. Long may she reign,” he teased, lifting his glass high. Sigyn blushed and covered her mouth as she held back a decidedly un-Jotun emotional outburst. Loki pulled her close, kissing her temple, allowing hide her face in the crook of his neck until she composed herself.

“Did you hear what he called me?” she asked, smiling tearfully. “Not Sigyn of Midgard, not Little Sigyn…”

“It suits you perfectly, my love,” Loki replied, beaming with pride. “To Sigyn of Jotunheim!” he shouted to the table, raising his glass, laughing gleefully when everyone toasted his mate again.

** *** **

Loki got out of bed, slowly, after long night of eating, drinking, and lovemaking, to find the room devoid of his mate. He’d barely had a chance to wonder as to her whereabouts when his chamber door was pushed open and Sigyn stepped in, a loaf of bread and a bag of mushrooms in one hand, and a small skillet in the other.

“Oh, you’re up. I had hoped to make you breakfast in bed.”

“And what did I do to deserve such attentive treatment?” Loki teased, taking the skillet from her as he kissed her good morning and moved over to the hearth.

“For only being the most supportive and wonderful mate in the history of the world,” she giggled.

“I fear success has turned you to mush, my sweet Sigyn. Should I be concerned?”

“I’m sure I’ll be back to my usual horrible self in no time.”

“Let’s hope so,” he smirked, settling in beside the fire, stoking it until it was strong enough to heat the skillet. Sigyn put the food beside him and then wandered around the room picking up glasses and a carafe, before disappearing into the washroom to fill it with cold water. When she returned Loki was preparing to pour the mushrooms into pan.

“Waitwaitwait…” Sigyn begged, setting down the water and seeking out the bag she took with her to Nidavellir. She returned to the hearth and sat herself in Loki’s lap, presenting him with a small wrapped parcel.

“Is that…” Loki gasped as she unwrapped it. “Butter?”

“Shhh,” Sigyn scolded, looking about her in a feigned act of paranoia. “I took it from the dwarf king’s table. Just for us.”

“There’s my horrible mate,” Loki grinned, tearing off a piece and throwing it into the hot pan, followed by a handful of mushrooms, his free hand slipping around Sigyn’s waist. They stayed that way for most of the morning, feeding each other fried mushrooms and hot buttered toast, kissing the crumbs from each other’s lips.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please excuse the longer-than-average delay. Happy Halloween. xoxox

Thanks to Sigyn’s continuing friendship with the dwarf king she had been introduced to trade ministers on Vanaheim, with whom she traded diamonds and animal hides for timber and crops. Soon word of her affable negotiating style reached the Elvin court of Alfheim and Ambassador Sigyn was invited to meet with them. The Light Elves had no desire for animal products but happily traded fruits and fabric for a few diamonds and the opportunity to broach the subject of hiring Jotun’s for manual labour on a few large construction projects in the near future. At Ivaldi’s urging Sigyn had even met with a delegation of Fire Giants from Muspelheim, on Ivaldi’s land due to the inhospitable nature of each other’s home realms, and had agreed to the trading of dragon hides for ancient blocks of ice, so dense and hard they could survive the trip to the Muspelheim’s water reserves, far from their lava surrounded capital.

Asgard was the only worthwhile realm Sigyn had yet to visit - Svartelheim and Nilfheim were not considered due to their desolation, and Midgard because of its infantile ignorance of the wider universe, comments about which Sigyn tried not to take to heart. But being Jotunheim’s most bitter enemies, Asgard was avoided until Laufey-king had no more excuses as to why Sigyn should not go, especially after an official invitation found its way to them via their newest trade allies. She arrived on Asgard full of her usual curiosity and excitement, but what followed was the most tedious series of meetings Sigyn had ever endured. She had already spent months learning everything she could about Jotunheim’s history with Asgard, and the war that led to their, until recent, isolation, but nothing could prepare her from the arrogant posturing of Asgardian society. Despite being invited to talk with them, the Allfather seemed to have little regard for Sigyn’s standing in Jotunheim’s hierarchy and would not take her word on anything, every little decision had to be ferried back to Laufey by Sigyn’s assistant, a small Jotun female named Dagmar, leaving Sigyn to spend her days being somewhat shunned by her hosts while they waited for Laufey’s replies. After a month no real trade negotiations had been made, but both parties had officially agreed not to wage war against each other or trepass on each other’s lands. Not exactly a raging success, Sigyn had grumbled, but it was a start.

When the Bifrost (her least favourite way to travel) had deposited her back on Jotunheim, Sigyn was so weary and homesick that she ran straight into Loki’s arms, protocol and professionalism be damned. It was several minutes before Laufey could get a word out of her, and even then Loki refused to let her go.

 

Sigyn awoke to the feel of cold fingertips dancing along her spine. She smiled and nuzzled against her bedmate’s neck.

“Is it morning already?” she asked drowsily.

“It is midday, actually,” Loki replied. “I thought you’d appreciate a few more hours sleep.”

“Mhmm,” Sigyn giggled. “That was quite the welcome home you gave me last night. Anyone would think you missed me,” she teased.

“You were gone a whole month,” Loki grumbled, pulling Sigyn closer. “I hate it when you’re gone so long.”

“Me too. Pompous diplomats, endless meetings, and no Loki,” she sighed. “I won’t agree to another trip to Asgard in a hurry.”

“Then it is settled, you’re never leaving me again,” Loki replied sternly, kissing the top of Sigyn’s head as she laughed. “You truly didn’t enjoy yourself?” Loki queried, his voice quiet and almost pained. “No refined nobleman tried to sweep you off your feet?”

“What are you talking about?” Sigyn huffed.

“Asgardians and Midgardians are so similar in appearance, I had feared you might meet someone so much more like yourself…”

Sigyn recoiled at his words and sat up, staring at him as her eyes quickly filled with tears.

“Do you doubt me?” she asked, her voice nothing more than a pained whisper.

“No,” Loki replied without hesitation, reaching out to cup her face in his hand, his thumb brushing against her lips. “But my mind likes to torment me, and time apart from you makes it worse. Every time I fall asleep I fear I shall wake up and find you gone, that meeting you was all some fantastical dream, that it was never real…”

“Don’t say that,” Sigyn begged, falling into his arms, kissing his fears away. “I’m here, I’m yours,” she promised him.

They made love, clinging to each other desperately, seeking comfort and safety in each other’s arms. When they stopped to catch their breaths, their positions were switched - Loki had curled around Sigyn, his lips ghosting over her throat, Sigyn’s hand was at the back of his head, twisting in his hair, her lips tracing the markings on his forehead – and they continued their conversation as though nothing had happened.

“Where did Laufey send you while I was away?” Sigyn asked, knowing full well Laufey hated having Loki moping about the city waiting for Sigyn’s return, and that Loki would have put off any journeys or hunts until she was offworld, to ensure they were both in Utgard at the same time.

“Father sent Býleistr and I to visit with the chiefs of the coastal villages. They are doing quite well. With the timber you procured from Vanaheim they have improved their fishing vessels and built larger ones. And the elves silver netting is apparently quite marvellous. Twice as strong as their own nets, and rarely tangles. They have been bringing in record hauls thanks to your efforts.”

“Am I to assume that this record haul has going to continue to grace our dinner table?” Sigyn grimaced.

“I shall never understand how you can gladly partake in all manner of foreign food but turn your nose up at our realms sea life.”

“It has tentacles!” Sigyn cried. “It’s unnatural!”

“And that green stuff the elves fed you is?”

“It’s called ‘salad’, and yes, to me, that is quite natural. Things that curl their numerous arms at you while you’re trying to eat them is not.”

“Oh, my strange Midgardian girl,” Loki hummed, kissing his way up to her jawline.

“There was hardly any angry shouting at dinner,” Sigyn remarked, trying to ignore Loki’s amorous advances until her body had recovered enough to respond to them properly. “Am I to assume that Býleistr was only mildly irritating to the chiefs he met with?”

“He didn’t upset a single one of them.”

“Truly?”

“I am as surprised as you,” Loki chuckled, shifting upwards to face Sigyn. “But it seems fatherhood continues to make Býleistr wiser and less volatile.”

“And how is the little terror?”

“Helbindi has grown a whole foot taller in your absence, but still manages to disappear on Maezor on a regular basis. The poor giantess has aged terribly,” he smirked.

“Don’t be cruel,” Sigyn snickered, slapping his shoulder playfully.

“And we have all missed you,” he said, kissing her.

“ _You_ missed me.”

“Mhmm,” was all Loki could say in reply as he stole kiss after kiss until they were both rendered breathless. “I know you have only just returned, but I was thinking…”

“Mmm…” Sigyn sighed.

“Perhaps you’d like to take a little trip with me.”

“Anywhere you’d like, dearest.”

“By my calculations the portal to your world should be opening sometime this week. As it has been a few years, I thought you might like to return home.”

“This is my home,” Sigyn countered.

“You know what I mean,” Loki smirked.

Sigyn shifted until she was lying against Loki’s chest and thought about his suggestion for a moment as she traced the lines on his skin. She had no real friends on Midgard, and her sister was her only family. And though Sigyn was sure she had been missed, she couldn’t help but think her sister must have been quietly relieved to no longer have to worry about her wilful younger sibling. Apart from the occasional concern about her sister Sigyn had rarely thought about Midgard at all, except…

“I have missed my vegetable garden,” she mused.

“And I have missed your pumpkin soup.”

Sigyn smiled. Now that Loki had mentioned it, Sigyn missed her pumpkin soup too. The only realm she had visited that grew them had been Asgard, though it wasn’t quite the season for them, and the trading of crops had not been on the agenda for discussion, nor would it for some time.

“Very well,” Sigyn declared, hugging her mate. “We shall return to the site of our first meeting, if only for the pumpkins.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've tried to edit this but it's late and I'm tired, so please forgive any mistakes. Or point them out to me and laugh. Whatever. xoxox

Loki stepped through the portal first, leading Sigyn by the hand. They emerged out of a small cave, hidden from sight by a fallen tree, deep in the forest that bordered Sigyn’s former home. Sigyn glanced about, smiling softly as the smell of the fog-drenched forest and the sound of leaves crunching underfoot brought back a thousand memories. Loki, however, had his eyes fixed to the sky.

“What is it?”

“The hour is late,” he muttered, pointing to the moon’s position. “My calculations were off again; there’s only a few hours until dawn.”

“How long will it take for us to reach the village?”

“Not long,” Loki admitted.

“Then we best be quick. Which way?” Sigyn asked, everything looking unfamiliar to her from their current location.

Loki led her through the forest, occasionally stopping to growl at a lingering shadow or throw ice at some foul creature that was too curious for its own good.

“Do you think these creatures came from another realm this day, just as you did?” Sigyn mused.

“Possibly. Perhaps they’re cruel spirits, attempting to escape the depths of Nilfheim, and…”

“And what?” Sigyn asked, tugging on Loki’s hand as he stood frozen in place. “What is it?”

“The path is just ahead,” he replied, a strange smile playing on his blue lips. “This is where I was when I first saw you. You came down the path, head held high even as dark creatures stalked your footsteps. You were beautiful,” he added, glancing at his mate, smiling affectionately. “And I wanted nothing more than to protect you.”

Sigyn pressed her face against Loki’s arm so that he couldn’t see the sudden blush in her cheeks.

“May I ask…” Loki asked, uncertainty in his dark voice. “What you thought when you first saw me? Did I frighten you?”

“Whilst I must admit that the strange events of the evening got the best of me,” she confessed, wincing with as she recalled fainting in his arms. “But when I first saw you,” she said, moving to stand before him, just has she had that first time, her hands pressed against the cold planes of his chest. “I trusted you implicitly. And I was so glad when you came back,” she added, kissing him.

“I could not have stayed away. I spent every night of the year that followed remembering the feel of you in my arms.”

Sigyn heart swelled with love for her mate, reaching up to claim his lips again. Loki moaned into the kiss but pushed her away when they broke apart.

“We haven’t the time,” he growled softly, his pupils blown wide with lust. “I’ll stay out of sight and keep the monsters at bay. You go raid a garden and hurry back so that I may take you home, Sigyn.”

Sigyn kissed him one more time, smiling like a lovesick maid as she ran down the path towards the village, ignoring the shadows that snarled at her, trusting that Loki would keep her safe from harm.

 

When Sigyn reached the tree line she paused, gazing out across the eerily silent village, the glow of torches and jack-o-lanterns the only sign of life she could see. She made her way quickly to her old home, happy to behold it despite how rundown it appeared after only a few years. Apparently none dared reside there after it had played host to a demon. She circled around back and gasped at the sight her monstrously overgrown garden, wondering if anything edible could strive amongst the weeds. A flash of orange amongst the overgrowth had her hiking up her heavy gown to climb over the rickety fence, scrounging around for an unspoiled pumpkin. She smiled victoriously as she found a few smaller ones, placing them in a leather satchel she wore under her coat, and almost squealed with delight as she lunged for a large head of purple cabbage, standing up as she inspected it for insect damage. As she attempted to fit it in her bag a shadow fell over her, sending a chill through her quicker than midwinter in Jotunheim. Sigyn held her breath when she heard an ominous _click,_ turning slowly to come face-to-face with Thackery, a crossbow held in his shaking hands.

“I was wondering if I’d ever see you again,” he muttered, his eyes fixed on her but somehow so far away. “I dreamt about it, so many times… Sometimes you’d come back to me, beg me to save you from that demon… But most nights,” he said, grinning madly, his sunken eyes wide and quivering. “I was tormented by you, forced to watch while that beast made you his whore. You like it, don’t you? Getting on your knees for that blue demon? Say it!” he screamed when Sigyn refused to answer his debased line of questioning.

“I love him,” was all she could say in reply, tearing her gaze away from the glint of the arrow head to stare down Thackery.

“You love him,” Thackery sneered. “You chose a monster over me. People… people pity me… They laugh at me… I can’t sleep… Because of you,” he growled, aiming the crossbow at Sigyn’s chest, his finger hovering over the trigger.

He was mad, utterly mad. Sigyn whimpered as he taunted her, determined to have her counting the seconds before her life ended at his hands. Sigyn thought of Loki, just a few hundred meters away, just one good scream would get his attention, but it would take only an instant for Thackery to pull the trigger. Unless…

Sigyn hurled the cabbage at Thackery and threw herself over the fence. The crossbow bolt was loosed as Thackery recoiled, barely missing Sigyn, putting a hole in her coat. She scrambled for the tree line, freezing in terror as a shrill whistle pierced the night air, followed by a pack of menacing howls.

“Loki!” Sigyn screamed as she ran into the forest.

She could already hear the dogs chasing after her when she saw Loki racing towards her. He bent low and threw her over his shoulder, skidding to a stop before turning around, hurtling towards the portal as fast as his long legs could carry them. Sigyn clutched at Loki’s back for dear life and through her jolted vision she saw Thackery breach the treeline and raise his crossbow. The bolt whistled through the forest, clipping Loki’s arm, before burying itself in a tree trunk. Then all hell broke loose.

The moment Loki’s blue blood hit the damp ground the dogs had his scent, and so did the monsters of the forest, no longer content with hiding in the shadows. Loki ignored everything but his hold on Sigyn and the speed of his feet, which remained unchanged as he ran deeper into the forest. Sigyn screamed as another crossbow bolt was loosed, this time lodging itself in Loki’s calf, causing him to stumble and throw them both to the ground. He cursed and ripped the bolt out of his leg with a cry and ran to Sigyn’s side, pulling her to her feet and pushing her onwards, determined to keep himself between her and all the creatures that meant them harm.

A dog, feral, frothing at the mouth, lunged at Loki and he batted it away with a clawed hand. It hit a tree with a sickening crunch and the closest monsters pounced on its corpse, ripping it to shreds. The remaining dogs got skittish but at the command of their master attacked. The creatures of night advanced, attacking the dogs first so they could keep the larger prey for themselves. Loki conjured wave after wave of jagged ice, impaling some, deflecting others, all while shuffling backwards as Sigyn, hands gripping his waist, pulled him in the direction of the portal.

 

The ground was covered with blood and ice and the mangled bodies of animals. Loki heaved and growled as the last of the demons surrounded them, all glinting teeth and ravenous hunger. Thackery lingered in the distance, crossbow at the ready, watching the scene with mild annoyance. He wanted them both to die, but would have preferred it to be by his own hands. Loki glared at Thackery, the cause of all this madness. He gave a deafening roar and extended his arms, commanding the full extent of his powers, sending out a shockwave of ice fifty meters in all directions, pinning some of the creatures to tree trunks, completely disintegrating others. It was in that moment that Thackery saw an opening.

 

Loki’s heart stopped when he heard Sigyn cry out, turning just in time to catch her as she fell, her hand grasping at her chest where a crossbow bolt was lodge just beneath her clavicle.

“Nononono…” Loki cursed as he tried to put pressure on the wound, her warm blood seeping through her thick garments and onto his blue hands.

“Loki…” Sigyn gasped, struggling for breath, her body trembling as shock began to set in.

Loki clenched his teeth as the distant laughter of her assailant turned his fear into rage. He set Sigyn down on the ground, despite her protests, and snarled at Thackery.

“Don’t worry, monster,” he chuckled as he freed his feet from the thick layer of ice on the ground. “I’ll let you join her soon enough.”

Loki roared and charged towards Thackery, who quickly tried to pullback the rawhide and reload his crossbow, but he wasn’t as fast as the Jotun. Loki crushed the crossbow with one giant hand, the other curling around Thackery’s throat, forcing him to spit out his venomous curses.

“You took her from me. It was only fair that I should take her from you.”

Loki made Thackery watch as he formed a blade of ice over his free hand.

“She was never yours,” he replied coldly, forcing the makeshift blade between Thackery’s ribs. He took no delight in watching the light fade from the mortals eyes, merely let him fall to the ground like ragdoll as he raced back to his mates side. Sigyn had lost a lot of blood, a pool of it forming on the ice beneath her, and was fading in and out of consciousness. He picked her up and raced, limping, towards the portal, trying not to jostle his injured mate too much.

“Hold on, Sigyn,” he begged, as he spied a familiar clearing. But terror gripped his heart when he saw the fallen tree that marked the entrance to the portal bathed in predawn light.

** *** **

As dawn’s first light spilled over the land a bloodcurdling howl tore through the forest, echoing for miles. The villagers stumbled from their beds, hands clutched over their racing hearts, wondering what poor soul had perished on that most cursed of nights.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short filler chapter to get you past the cliffhanger, tide you over until the last few chapters are finished, and bring back the fairytale vibe.
> 
> Thanks for reading. xoxox

Winter came early to the village that year, with frost emanating from the forest and encroaching on their fields and gardens from All Saints Day, and by the time midwinter was officially upon them all were in agreement that it was the worst winter in living memory. The snow and ice seemed alive, damaging their stores and killing their livestock. Those that could fled to the south once the river froze over, taking with them only what they could carry. There were villages to the east that were closer but none were eager to travel the path through the forest, for even once Spring arrived it remained winter there, cold tendrils of mist curled at its boundary, taunting the villagers who stayed on.

Occasionally the stronger and more foolhardy amongst them ventured into the woods, driven by desperation for supplies from their neighbours. Of all the men who ventured into the forest, only one returned with his life, babbling about a woman encased in ice and a giant with blood red eyes and scars all over his blue skin. The townspeople wrote it off as madness, but none dared ventured back into the forest after that.

One morning in early April, when the townsfolk had all but resigned themselves to starvation, a tornado of light tore through the grey clouds above the forest. The strange storm lasted but a moment, and when it passed it was if the curse had been lifted and warmth returned to the world.

** *** **

Tales of the winter which almost decimated their village grew bleaker and more dramatic with every retelling, and come Halloween night, safely locked inside their houses, parents would warn their children to stay away from the forest with stories of a wicked witch, trapped in her icy prison, and of the blue giant who never left her side.


	10. Chapter 10

Darkness faded and Sigyn winced in the light, her body aching as she moved to cover her eyes.

“Shhh, Sigyn. Be still.”

“Loki?”

“I’m here, Sigyn. I’m here,” his fretful voice replied, his cool hand caressing her cheek.

“Loki,” Sigyn sighed, leaning into his touch. “Where am I?” she asked, blinking rapidly as her eyes struggled to adjust to her strange surroundings.

“Asgard.”

“Asgard? How did I get here?”

“Easy, Sigyn,” Loki begged, easily keeping Sigyn from getting up by placing a hand upon her shoulder. “What do you remember?”

“I… We went to Midgard, and…” Sigyn gasped, her hand flying to her chest as she recalled the deadly thud of the crossbow bolt. Her bandaged chest felt tight, her body weak and heavy, and the scarring beneath the gauze still felt raw. “Thackery shot me.”

Loki stiffened at the mention of the mortals name, shaking off his rage to focus on Sigyn.

“You were badly injured, the arrow almost pierced your heart. I tried to carry you to the portal but… The sun rose before I could get you there,” he said, his voice trembling as he held her hand tightly in his.

“But that means…”

“We were stranded. And you were dying,” Loki winced, blinking back tears at the memory of holding her bleeding body in his arms. “To keep your health from worsening I encased you in ice, and I waited…”

“A year?” Sigyn cried, trying to push herself up off the bed.

“No, no, no…” Loki assured her, easing her back down. “It was only a few months.”

“What? How?” Sigyn tried to push herself up but her body, and Loki, wouldn’t let allow it.

“Sigyn, please!” Loki begged, trying to keep her still. “You’ve been unconscious for over a week now, and it’s going to be longer still before you fully recovered from being frozen. I will answer all your questions, but you must promise to lie still.”

Sigyn reigned in her panic and nodded. Loki kissed her forehead and offered her a glass of water, gently tilting her head forward with on hand as held the glass to her lips with the other. When Loki was satisfied that Sigyn had calmed down enough he continued.

“Býleistr negotiated with the Asgardians, requesting that they use the Bifrost to rescue us.” Sigyn’s eyebrows shot up but she stayed silent. “It took some time though, for the Asgardians terms were difficult to agree to. They wanted to conscript fifty Jotun soldiers into their army.”

“Fifty lives for ours? That’s unacceptable!”

“Yes, it was,” Loki interjected before Sigyn got started. “And there was no way Býleistr and father would agree to that, so they found a way around it.”

“How?”

“They asked our friends to help us,” Loki said with a smile. “Býleistr went to Ivaldi first, and the moment he heard Asgard was refusing to rescue his favourite ambassador his forges went cold. The rest of the realms followed suit and before long Asgard was as isolated as the Jotunheim of old. Father came to Asgard himself to renegotiate the terms: the continued cooperation of the Nine for the safe return of the crown prince and the ambassador of Jotunheim. Father says it barely took the Allfather a day to agree.”

“Amazing. Perhaps they should come with me next time I go trading,” Sigyn teased.

“And now that I have answered all of your questions, I have a few of my own. May I?” he asked, sitting on the edge of her bed, as close as he dared. “How do you feel?”

“I feel… tired,” she confessed. “And I feel strange. And bloated and uncomfortable,” she muttered, growing frustrated. “I’m not accustomed to being bedridden. I find I dislike it immensely.”

“I’m afraid it is something that you may have to come to terms with, beloved. Now and in the near future,” Loki replied cryptically.

“What are you talking about?”

“Promise me you will try and remain calm.”

“Loki, tell me,” Sigyn demanded, her anxiety rising again.

Loki smiled sheepishly and took her hand, placed it palm down on her chest and slid it down her torso slowly, his eyes fixed on hers, waiting to see her reaction as her hand moved over the discernible bump that sat below her stomach. Sigyn’s eyes went wide and all the air rushed out of her lungs. To Loki’s amusement her mouth opened and closed rapidly as words failed her.

“How?” she managed eventually, one hand over her baby bump, the other clutching Loki’s arm. “How did this happen?”

“Well,” Loki smirked. “When a male desires a female, and she has been absent from his bed for a month…”

“No!” Sigyn shrieked with laughter, taking Loki’s hands in hers before he started re-enacting the process. “How did this happen, Loki?” Sigyn asked again, tears of joy streaming down her face.

“I am not certain. Perhaps… Perhaps your low body temperature made a more suitable environment for Jotun offspring? I’m not sure,” Loki admitted, bring Sigyn’s hands to his lips. “I do not wish to question it, Sigyn. I’m just so happy that you are well.”

“Is it… Is it well?” Sigyn asked nervously.

“The Asgardian healers seem to think so,” Loki replied, glancing about the white and gold room with disdainfully. “When we return home Verth will tend to you and tell us all we wish to know.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” a young healer piped up from the doorway. Loki merely glanced at the girl and she faltered, averting her eyes and turning pale. “What I mean to say is,” she stammered. “Is that it would be better for Lady Sigyn to remain on Asgard during her pregnancy. Asgard’s medicine is much more advanced than that of Jotunheim, and if there are any complications, such as would occurring in such an un… such a union…”

Loki stood and drew himself up to his full height, silencing the babbling healer with a glare and one perfectly arched eyebrow.

“As soon as my mate is well enough to travel we will be returning to Jotunheim. My child will be born on my home realm with the aid of our healers, who have eons of experience in bringing frost giant offspring into the world, unlike Asgardian healers, who hadn’t even set eyes on a Jotun until recently. And should any complications arise during my mate’s pregnancy, and the birth of the next generation of Jotun royalty, I would think the Allfather would want them to occur as far from the Realm Eternal as possible. Don’t you agree?”

The healer nodded mutely, trying not to shake as she curtseyed and backed out of the room to pass on the prince’s words to her superior.

Loki sat back down and Sigyn reached for him, her smile so bright Loki felt she rivalled the sun.

“I changed my mind,” she said quietly.

“About what?” Loki asked.

“You have to come trading with me next time,” she smirked.

Loki chuckled and kissed her palm, resisting slightly when Sigyn tried to urge him closer so she could kiss him properly.

“Loki, I won’t break.”

“I almost lost you, Sigyn. I…”

“I’m never leaving you,” she swore, taking Loki back to a conversation that seemed a lifetime ago. “Please, Loki…”

Loki sighed with longing before conceding, lying ever-so-carefully beside his mate, kissing her softly, one hand resting protectively over her swollen belly.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only the happily ever after to go. Thanks for reading. xoxox

Months had passed since their return to Jotunheim and there was much to be mended, but with Verth ordering Sigyn to rest and avoid inter-realm travel for the remainder of her pregnancy, the role of ambassador had to fall to someone else. Despite exceeding expectations in their absence, Býleistr was needed at home, shadowing his father and seeing to the needs of their own people, and that meant the responsibility fell to the second son.

Loki was loathed to leave his pregnant mate for any length of time, but he owed a great debt to his brother, and their allies across the realms, for their safe return, and so he agreed to do his duty. He slipped into the role easily for being known as Sigyn’s mate had their trade partners willing to give him the benefit of the doubt and trust him, for Ambassador Sigyn trusted him. He also had all of the information Sigyn had imparted on him, information she kept from Laufey-king lest it one day be used against her friends (for she was unable to extricate emotions from politics), which gave Loki an edge his brother did not have. And whilst he did not have his mate’s effortless sweetness, he was inquisitive and fair and soon came to be well respected amongst their trade partners. As such Loki found himself enjoying his newfound role, despite missing Sigyn terribly, and was seriously entertaining the notion of travelling with her when she returned to her duties after their child was born.

He chuckled at the thought - the three of them, travelling the realms as a family - as he kissed Sigyn, and her ever-growing belly, goodbye in the courtyard. He lingered in her arms, long enough for Laufey to clear his throat, urging him onwards.

“Yes, yes,” he muttered, chuckling still. “See you in three days, beloved.”

“I shall count the seconds, beloved.”

Loki pulled away then, walking backwards towards the snowstorm-like portal, his eyes not leaving the beautiful sight of his pregnant mate until his feet touched Nidavellir soil.

** *** **

“Prince Loki!” King Ivaldi cried, leaping down from his armoured hog. “Well met, my boy!”

“Well met, your majesty,” Loki smiled, taking the dwarfs offered arm.

“And does our girl fare?”

“Sigyn is well, thank you for enquiring,” Loki replied with a tight smile. He was as yet unaccustomed to the familiarity Jotunheim’s trade partners showed his mate. It was a petty jealously that he did his best to ignore. “She is healthy, as is the child, but she grows restless and beleaguered by her condition.”

“Ah, all mothers get that way as the months drag on,” Ivaldi, a man with many sons, replied dismissively as they made their way up to the cavernous city. “She doesn’t have long to go now.”

“No, a few weeks, perhaps. A month at most.”

“You’ll see, my boy. All these complaints will be utterly forgotten once she sets eyes on the babe.”

“I shall hold you to that,” Loki laughed. The old dwarf joining him, slapping him on the back as he led his guest to the feasting hall.

All dwarf negotiations started with a meal, or rather, didn’t. Business was never discussed on the first night, and judging by how generous Loki’s host was with his mead, it was rarely discussed before lunch the following day either. The guards that had accompanied Loki, the same two that always travelled with Sigyn, promptly found seats amongst their favoured drinking partners and picked up from where they left off the last time they were in Nidavellir. Loki, however, did his best to keep a clear head, as much as he could without insulting his host, engaging Ivaldi and his council in lively conversation until the wee hours of the morning.

When he was finally able to successfully excuse himself from the table he made his way up to his assigned guest chambers, still marvelling at the idea of sleeping above ground despite this being his third visit to the dwarf’s realm. He stared out at the rolling hillside, visible for miles from the large windows – _windows!_ Loki snorted and shook his head at his wonderment at such simple things. He pulled the curtains closed and stretched out on the bed, his large feet dangling off the edge. He tossed fitfully, as he always did when parted from his mate, wishing more than anything that she was here by his side. A soft smile played on his lips when he once again thought of sharing this life as a family and, shortly thereafter, fell into a pleasant dream filled sleep.

** *** **

Sigyn sighed as she awoke alone, reaching out to the empty space where her mate should be, but smiled when she remember that Loki was to return that afternoon. It had been three long days and, as it was each time he left, Sigyn had an even greater respect for Loki’s strength, for time apart from him was agonising. Although he had been given ways to occupy his mind whilst she was off-world. Sigyn, in her current state, was not so fortunate.

 _Not long now,_ she reminded herself as she bathed, stroking her pregnant belly. She dried quickly and dressed in a loose grey woollen smock, a silver cord tied loosely under her bust; the only outfit in her wardrobe that didn’t feel like it was suffocating her. She had food brought to her room and tried to while away the morning reading. It had been months since she had broken her fast with the rest of the family, simply because her unborn child delighted in making her ill at the most inopportune times.

Sigyn made it until midday before she began getting distracted, re-reading a paragraph several times before throwing the book away in frustration. She pushed herself up off divan with difficulty, slipped on a pair of boots, and followed her nose to the kitchens, her protruding belly growling at the thought of lunch. Two guards, appointed by Loki every time he went off-world, shadowed her. It had been irritating at first, but Sigyn couldn’t deny Loki such a small request after all that he had done for her. He never went so far as to hold it over her, but he didn’t have to; Sigyn’s heart ached whenever she thought of Loki alone, watching over her in her frozen, death-like sleep.

The women in the kitchen greeted Sigyn warmly, chuckling as she tried to get up on her tiptoes to see what each of them was cooking. Eventually one smell won out over all the others and she stood beside the cook - Beltha, Sigyn thought her name was - and enquired as to what she was frying up.

“Squid in butter, garlic, and spices,” Beltha replied, unable to hide her amusement.

Sigyn groaned, cringing at the thought, before relenting and holding out her hand.

The kitchen staff laughed as Beltha passed Sigyn a fork with a small squid skewered on it. She grimace and moved to a corner near the door where a small chair had been left for her after her third midnight snack run, early in her pregnancy, and eased herself down. She glared at the strange creature on her fork before closing her eyes and taking a bite, gnawing on a chewy tentacle, trying to focus on how good it tasted and not what it looked like.

“What are you eating?” Verth cried, appearing out of nowhere, as she seemed to do whenever Sigyn was doing something pregnant women shouldn’t be doing.

“Squid,” Sigyn replied bitterly, biting off another tentacle.

“That’s not good for you,” Verth scolded, taking the fork off the petulant mother-to-be.

“But the baby wanted it,” Sigyn whined.

“I’m sure,” Verth replied dismissively, busying herself to prepare Sigyn something far more beneficial, but only half as appetising as squid. “Here, eat this,” she ordered, pushing a bowl of grey goop into Sigyn’s hands.

“It’s just porridge,” Sigyn assured herself quietly, eating spoonful after spoonful under the watchful eyes of her midwife.

Released from Verth’s care, Sigyn wandered above ground, her shadows never far behind. She did slow laps of the courtyard, relishing the feel of the cold breeze through her dress. Because of her pregnancy, or perhaps because of her time in ice, warmer temperatures had begun to bother her and made her feel ill, and she had often sought out ways to enjoy the cold without her Midgardian body suffering. Her preferred way was to have her mate’s arms around her as they lay in bed together, but in Loki’s absence she often found herself wandering above ground without extra layers, eventually making her way over the to the stables to check on Neruk.

The cheerful beast recognised her immediately and jumped about in his excitement, perhaps thinking that Sigyn would take him for a run in Loki’s absence.

“You miss him too, hmm?” she asked, patting his snout as he tried to nuzzle her belly.

“Loki was much the same when you first left for Nidavellir,” Laufey remarked, startling Sigyn. How the giant managed to sneak up on her was a mystery.

“Oh?”

“Yes,” Laufey chuckled. “He pined, and moped, and paced. It was the longest three days any of us had ever suffered through,” he added with a wry smile and a shake of his head. “Lesson learnt, I ensured he always had tasks to keep him occupied whenever you visited other realms.”

Sigyn blushed and, unable to think of anything to say to her king, simply kept patting Neruk.

“He loves you, you know.”

“I know,” Sigyn replied, her confusion evident. Was his love for her not evident to all? “No less than I love him, I’m sure.”

“My love for his mother was much the same. It was an arrangement out fathers had made, and it took some years, but I grew to love her unreservedly. I had thought I would have to make a similar arrangement for Loki, for he never showed much interest in the females I tried to introduce him to. I thought I would pick one I thought to be suitable and hope he would grow to love her as I had love his mother. But then he met you, and from the moment he introduced me to you I knew he loved you. I accepted his decision, I was happy he had a mate, even if she was of Midgard, but I still wondered why he chose you and not a Jotun female.” Sigyn tried not to appear as embarrassed as she felt. Heart-to-hearts with the King of Jotunheim were not something she was accustomed to, even if he was Loki’s father. “And then it occurred to me; you never pitied him.”

“It never occurred to me to do so,” Sigyn replied honestly. Even after it became apparent to her that her mate was not as tall or as strong as the other Jotun males, it never occurred to her to pity Loki – he was her everything, and she did her best to remind him of it every day.

“And I thank you for that,” Laufey added. “I thank you for loving my son, for serving my realm so determinedly, and for giving Loki a child.”

Sigyn blushed and nodded as Laufey led her down to the other end of the stables, where a female lay resting in the last stall.

“This is Xenkar, my favourite mare, and mate to my own steed. She’s due to deliver a litter of pups come winter. I am going to gift one to Helbindi and, with your blessing, I would like to gift one to your child. A name day present, if you will.”

“I- We would be honoured, your majesty.”

“You know, I don’t mind if you call me Laufey in private. But I should warn you I have also grown to enjoy being called ‘afi’,” he added with a wink, resting a hand on her stomach. “Now come along little Sigyn, Loki would not be pleased if I didn’t remind you that you need your rest.”

“Yes, afi,” Sigyn sighed dramatically, smiling when Laufey responded with one of his avalanche inducing laughs as he escorted her back to the city.

** *** **

Sigyn woke to the feel of cool arms curling around her stomach.

“Loki?” she mumbled, trying to force herself awake.

“Shhh,” he whispered against her neck, kissing along her shoulder.

“What time is it?”

“It’s late, go back to sleep.”

“What? I was supposed to meet you at the courtyard,” she grumbled.

“Evidently you were tired, beloved.”

“Your child is stealing all my energy,” she groaned.

“My child?” Loki chuckled, his hands moving in circles over her belly.

“When it misbehaves it’s yours.”

“Whatever you say, beloved,” he smirked, holding her close.

They slept that way every night - Sigyn on her side, Loki pressing his cold form against her back, his arms wrapped protectively around her stomach – until the fifth night after Loki’s return home from Nidavellir, when Sigyn’s contractions started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * "afi" means grandfather.


	12. Chapter 12

The citizens of Utgard stood still and quiet, helpless as Sigyn screamed through her contractions. The screams became louder, more desperate, more agonising, and then, all of a sudden, they stopped. The city held its breath for what felt like an eternity until the wails of a newborn echoed through the tunnels, followed by the joyous cheers as the entire city began celebrating the birth of their newest royal – the first Jotun princess in an age.

** *** **

The overwhelming pain subsided as the minutes ticked slowly by, and Sigyn’s tenuous grip on consciousness became stronger. She could see the healers fluttering around her, and in the background she could hear a child’s cries. Her child. She immediately began clambering for her baby despite her body’s protests.

“Easy, Sigyn,” Loki’s voice implored as he appeared by her side. “All is well.”

“Where’s our baby?” her weak voice demanded.

“She’s here, she’s fine.”

“She?” Sigyn cried.

“A perfect little princess,” Loki beamed, helping Sigyn into a sitting position.

“It seems she knew her mother was awake,” Verth chirped happily, moving into Sigyn’s field of vision, allowing Loki to take the squirming infant from her.

“Would you like to meet your daughter?” Loki asked.

Sigyn nodded, sobbing silently as Loki placed the child in her trembling arms. Loki sat beside her bed, watching in awe as mother and child became acquainted. Loki fidgeted, not feeling close enough to them for his liking.

“Excuse me, beloved,” he said, carefully lifting Sigyn up, seating himself upon the bed and placing Sigyn in his lap. Loki held his mate reverently in his arms, who in turn held in their daughter in hers.

“Another runt,” he said affectionately, stroking the small tuft of raven black hair atop his daughter’s head. “Father will be thrilled.”

“She’s perfect,” Sigyn cooed, reaching out to touch her daughter’s face only for a tiny hand the colour of a summer sky to grip her finger tightly. “What shall we name her?”

“Should we name her after your mother?”

“Susan,” Sigyn replied, crinkling her nose. “No, it's decidedly plain, and the reason she named me so strangely. And not remotely Jotun."

“Your name is perfect,” Loki countered, kissing the side of her head. “But if you do not wish to name our daughter after your mother, would you be averse to naming her after mine?”

Sigyn thought for a moment before giving her mate a warm smile. “A perfect name for a perfect little girl,” she replied dreamily, rocking their daughter as she began to fuss.

** *** **

The princess’s name day approached and Jotunheim was busy preparing the large open air hall for the celebration. Fire pits and sconces were lit, bathing the area in warm light, the cold stone chairs were draped in luxurious furs, and the tables were laden with enough food and drink to feed an army.

Laufey arrived topside and surveyed the hall as his servants rushed to and fro, simply nodding to signify his approval before he descended the stairs to the courtyard. Behind him the Jotun attendants took their assigned seats and talked amongst themselves, waiting far more patiently than their king for the other guests to arrive. Laufey’s expression remained impassive but he fidgeted with the bindings on his silver vambraces – a specialty item, one of three, which Sigyn had commissioned from the dwarf smiths. Laufey’s were adorned with unhewn diamonds, Býleistr and Loki’s were far simpler in design, but no less fine (though Sigyn had asked that Loki’s be engraved with frost marks, so faint one could only see them if they were looking for them). It was to be the first inter-realm conclave on Jotun ice in almost a thousand years, as such it was difficult for Laufey-king to allow himself to relax.

Býleistr and his family soon arrived, dressed in their finest leather and furs, and stood behind the king to greet their guests as they arrived from across the realms, graciously accepting their gifts on behalf of the newborn princess.

King Ivaldi and his court were the first to arrive, and he wished to bestow upon the tiny jotun a choker of silver embedded with sapphires, and a promise, that should she become a warrior, he would craft her the finest armour in the Nine.

The Empress of Muspelheim was absent, naturally, but sent her best wishes with a dwarf representative, along with three of the most brilliant fire rubies ever beheld by outsiders.

The Light Elves delegation arrived next, eying the already boisterous dwarven party with exasperation, and had brought with them a crystal orb filled with starlight to keep the long winter darkness at bay.

Then came the Vanir ambassador and her staff, and they offered the child a book of magics, which Loki would soon covet, and an intricately carved music box which played a Jotun lullaby.

The Asgardians royals, arriving fashionably late, brought a crate full of pumpkins, after hearing of the ambassador’s fondness for them. Something of a dig at the royal couple’s foolishness, but it was gracefully accepted nonetheless, for this was not a day for hostilities. As for the princess, Queen Frigga herself had woven the child a blanket of the finest wool in shades dark blue, an image of Yggdrasil embroidered upon it in fine silver thread.

“Thank you, friends and honoured guests,” Laufey said over the noise of the assembly, waiting for silence to prevail before continuing. “It is a great pleasure to welcome you all to Jotunheim on this most auspicious day. May it be the first of many such shared celebrations as our alliances continue to thrive,” he added, raising his goblet in a toast.

“Here, here!” the guests cheered (though the Allfather was the least vocal of everyone), draining their own glasses.

“And now,” Laufey said, getting a signal from one of the guards positioned at the main tunnels entrance. “I believe it is time to welcome our guest of honour.”

Everyone turned in their seats to watch as Prince Loki escorted his mate into the hall. Loki was dressed in his finest princely garments; a dark leather kilt with metal embellishments, his silver and leather vambraces, and a dark cloak wrapped around his shoulders, half-covering his bare torso, whilst Sigyn looked every inch a princess in a [gown](http://refinery-static.weddingwire.com/dresses/media/W1siZiIsIjIwMTIvMTIvMTAvMTNfMTdfNDZfMzUyX3dpbnRlcl93ZWRkaW5nX2RyZXNzZXNfMTBfbW9uaXF1ZV9saHVpbGxpZXIuanBnIl0sWyJwIiwidGh1bWIiLCIzNjB4NDUwIl1d/winter-wedding-dresses-10-monique-lhuillier.jpg) that appeared to have been fashioned from snowflakes. In her arms, she held their precious daughter, swaddled tightly in a grey blanket, her tiny blue hands pulling on the fur trimmed edges. They made their way to Laufey’s side, smiling at their guests who were all eager to catch a glimpse of the infant princess. Laufey beamed with pride as Sigyn placed the tiny infant in his large hands.

“And what is the child’s name?” he asked of her parents.

Loki shifted closer to his father and whispered the name in his ear. Laufey faltered, inhaling sharply, as he glanced between his son and the child in his arms.

“If that’s okay with you,” Sigyn asked quietly.

Laufey pondered for a moment, gazing down at his granddaughter. She looked straight at him with her warm red eyes and smiled, babbling away in her own little language. Laufey smiled back and nodded.

“Aye, a fine choice,” he assured them as he turned to the gathered crowd. “Honoured guests, cherished friends, it is with great pleasure that I present to you the firstborn daughter of Prince Loki Laufeyson, and Ambassador Sigyn of Jotunheim - Princess Fárbauti Lokisdóttir, the second of her name. Long may she live!”

“Long may she live!”

** *** **

The celebrations continued well into the evening, with Fárbauti and her parents spending time with each of the invited parties, thanking them for their attendance and their fine gifts. Ivaldi had already named himself her honorary uncle, offering to hold the child for Sigyn whenever the opportunity arose, singing dwarvish lullabies to her as softly as his increasingly drunken state would allow. The Asgardian party remained somewhat stiff and unfriendly, taking their cues from the Allfather, but as the night went on, and the wine and ale kept flowing, they put politics aside and began to mingling with the other groups. Odin had moved to Laufey’s table, along with Ivaldi and the head of the Elven delegation, doing their best to talk about anything but politics and trade alliances. The tiny princess in Ivaldi’s arms made it easier for them. Queen Frigga had reunited with friends and acquaintances from her home world of Vanaheim, whilst Sif, bride of the crown prince, was deep in conversation with Maezor. The two of them stood on the steps of the hall, keeping an eye on their sons, who had become fast friends, as the pair ran around the courtyard, constantly underfoot of dozens of Jotuns, dwarves, Vanirs, and elves as they battled each other in games of strength and alcohol tolerance. As for Crown Prince Thor, after being forbidden from competing, he had seated himself with the Jotun princes and proceeded to bombard them with the thousand questions he had regarding their infamous realm.

“And what of the beasts of this realm?” he asked eagerly. “I have heard tell that hunting them is the greatest sport a man can know.”

“Mostly we hunt large beasts, akin to oxen, upon the frozen tundra. They travel in huge herds, there is not much challenge in it,” Loki admitted.

“But it is not the only game in Jotunheim,” Býleistr said conspiratorially, urging his brother to play along. “High up in the Vlolf Mountains reside the great white bears, taller than any Jotun, and twice as mean,” Býleistr grinned viciously. “Hunting them is a trial in and of itself. Only the greatest heroes have ever returned with a pelt.”

Loki smirked and shook his head as Býleistr continued to bait the thunderer.

“Getting along are we?” Sigyn asked, squeezing Loki’s shoulder.

“Aye, Lady Sigyn. Prince Býleistr was just promising to invite me the next time he ventures into the mountains in search of the great white bears.”

“Truly?” Sigyn asked, getting the same meaningful stare from Býleistr as Loki received. “Well, it is a great and terrible task, to be sure. But I think the most dangerous game would be the creatures that lurk in the darkest depths of the Azoht Sea. I have yet to meet a fisherman that retains the use of all his limbs.”

Býleistr smiled tightly as Thor’s eyes lit up, being as fond of the tentacled monstrosities as Sigyn was. Loki laughed into his mug of ale, his arm slinking around Sigyn’s shoulder as she sat beside him, as Thor and Býleistr began planning a fishing trip.

Loki smiled at his mate and then gestured down the other end of the table where all the representatives of all the gathered realms were seated, laughing uproariously as the Allfather, very animatedly, told a story from his wild youth.

“Mmm, dwarven ale is quite a heady concoction,” Sigyn smirked.

“That,” he said, pointing at the once-in-an-age display. “Is all your doing.”

Sigyn watched for a moment longer, sighing as Loki’s fingers absently brushed her shoulder.

“Actually, I believe that is your doing. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.”

“Don’t,” Loki warned halfheartdely. “I can see the wheels turning in your head – do not think of what might have been.”

“I wasn’t,” Sigyn confessed. “I was thinking of what might happen, _later tonight_ ,” she added in hushed Jotun.

“Oh?” Loki asked, his grip on her shoulder growing tighter.

“ _I was thinking my mark,”_ she said huskily, her fingers grazing over his _. “Was in desperate need of renewing.”_

A growl rumbled deep in his chest, but before Loki kiss his mate Fárbauti’s cries drew their attention.

“Daughter!” Laufey called down the table, taking the fussing Fárbauti from Ivaldi. “I believe the little one needs you.”

Sigyn smiled, kissed Loki chastely, and left her mate to mediate between the two crown princes as she collected Fárbauti from her afi. Modesty had Sigyn finding a seat on the edges of the celebration, keeping her back to them as she undid a panel on her dress and brought her daughter to up to her breast.

“Come on, little Fár,” Sigyn hummed as her daughter took her time to latch on.

“What are you doing?” a small voice queried, soon joined by a second, startling the nursing mother.

“Oh, hello Prince Modi, Helbindi,” Sigyn greeted, adjusting her hold on Fárbauti as the two young boys tried to get a better look. “I’m just giving Fárbauti her dinner. Your mothers fed you the same way when you were her size,” Sigyn added, laughing as the boys crinkled their noses in distaste.

They were silent for a moment, watching with fascination, until the sight of Fárbauti’s blue hand curling around Sigyn’s finger brought a nagging question to the forefront of the young Asgardians mind.

“Why aren’t you blue?”

“Hush! You shouldn’t ask such things,” Helbindi scolded, in much the same manner as he was when he asked impertinent questions.

“It’s fine, Helbindi,” Sigyn promised, turning to the Asgardian princeling. “I am not blue because I am not Jotun. I am from Midgard.”

“Midgard?” Modi asked, unconvinced. “But nobody goes to Midgard anymore. It’s forbidden.”

“Well,” Sigyn replied, her lips curling into a smile as Loki appeared, leaning against a pillar, watching the scene before him with amusement. “Prince Loki has never been one for rules.”

“What happened?”

“How did you meet?”

“I believe I would enjoy hearing this tale, as well,” Loki announced, reclining on a seat opposite her. The two your princes followed suit, sitting beside each other, waiting with baited breath for Sigyn to speak. Sigyn, blushing under the intense scrutiny of her audience, smiled down at Fárbauti as she found the words.

“Once upon an All Hallows Eve, in the faraway realm of Midgard…”

_And they lived happily ever after. THE END._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- No offense to any Susan's out there (especially you, Susan Foreman :P). It's just seemed like a suitable, simple, old-timey name. Also, it started with an S, so...
> 
> \- In Norse mythology Fárbauti is actually Loki’s father and Laufey is his mother. Marvel made Laufey male, so it made sense, in a roundabout way, to make Fárbauti female. Fárbauti means cruel-striker, which can be a kenning for “lightning”, which I thought was amusing for a little princess. Also, I wanted to shorten it/give her a pet name when Sigyn was nursing her, but I checked it against an Old Norse dictionary to make sure I wasn’t turning it into something silly. It turns out that Fár can mean “mischief”, and thus Sigyn is calling Loki’s daughter “little mischief”. How cute is that? :)
> 
> \- And finally, THANK YOU for reading. xoxox


End file.
